Chapter 16: Detective Minho

  The trio returned to the safehouse, the smell of smoke still clinging to their tactical gear. The adrenaline was fading, leaving only the cold weight of their reality.

  "We didn’t get much," Rin sighed, dropping into a worn leather chair. "Wonjung is out there getting stronger by the minute. Every second we waste, we're becoming ants to her. Just something for her to step on."

  San approached her, his expression uncharacteristically soft as he patted her shoulder in a silent show of support. Eunchae, watching from the corner, immediately slumped her shoulders and put on her best tragic face, glancing sideways at San.

  "We are sooo not making progress," Eunchae groaned, leaning against the wall dramatically. "I am like, sooo—" She paused, glaring at San, waiting for a comforting hand on her shoulder too. "—sad. Truly devastated."

  "Eunchae," San said without looking up. "Get us some coffee, please."

  Eunchae’s tragic mask shattered into a scowl. "Yes, sir," she muttered, stomping toward the kitchenette.

  Doyun approached San, "Here's the update on our logistics, sir." he snapped the tablet around.

  San’s eyes tracked across the display, his brow furrowing as he tried to make sense of the cascading lines of data. "We're getting all the upgrades we needed. See? Not so bad, Rin."

  Rin let out a heavy sigh, "I guess."

  "Thanks, Doyun. Really glad you survived Wonjung's assault. God knows we could use a familiar face."

  Doyun bowed and walked away.

  Leeseo, meanwhile, was buzzing. She slammed her tonfas onto the table out of hype and hopped around the room, still riding the high of the explosion and the jump.

  Before she could start another lap, Seonho grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into a side room, locking the door behind them. He spun her around, pinning her back against the wall.

  "That! That was- THAT WAS RECKLESS! AND STUPID! AND—"

  "Incredible?" Leeseo finished for him, a playful smirk dancing on her lips.

  Seonho started to yell again, but the air hissed out of him in a long sigh. "It was... okay, it was kinda cool. But that’s not the point!"

  "I’m starting to understand humor now," Leeseo teased, stepping closer. "Let me try: Seonho looks like a tomato right now because he’s blushing so hard, watching me leap off a fifteen-story building."

  "Shut up," Seonho muttered, turning his head away to hide the heat in his cheeks. He stepped back, his voice dropping to a serious whisper. "I don’t know what I’d do if something actually happened to you, Leeseo."

  "Seonho, I'm a soldier too, you know," she said, her voice softening.

  "Tomorrow, I’m going to meet with San’s old squad," Seonho said, regaining his composure. "So... be on your best behavior while I’m gone."

  He sighed, and with a soft zip of blue light, he blinked out of the room.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  "Not the ending of a conversation I was expecting." she called out to the empty air.

  ***

  In a quiet patch of forest miles away, Yaejin was a blur of motion. She was training with a desperate, frantic energy—sprinting, throwing her spear until her shoulders burned, and powering through sets of sit-ups and push-ups. She was maintaining the build of an Elite, but the spark was gone.

  She attempted a complex parkour maneuver through a rocky outcrop, leaping from a jagged ledge. Her foot slipped. She tumbled down the slope, her thigh catching on a sharp stone.

  "Ahh!" she hissed, clutching the gash. She closed her eyes, focusing every nerve on the wound. She waited for the familiar heat, the squelch of cells knitting back together.

  Nothing. The deletion of her powers by Wonjung wasn't a temporary glitch; it was a permanent silence. She was still a super-soldier—faster, stronger, and more durable than any human—but the supernatural "High-Speed Regeneration" remained dead.

  She limped home, drenched in sweat. Inside their small cabin, Jiwon was peacefully arranging a bouquet of wild flowers. She looked up with a bright, comforting smile. "How was training?"

  "Nothing," Yaejin snapped, tossing her spear into the corner. "I’m never going to be a healer again."

  "You are more than your powers, Yaejin," Jiwon said gently.

  "You don't understand, Jiwon! You don't!" Yaejin turned on her, her eyes stinging. "Imagine living your entire life knowing you were invincible. That any mistake, any wound, any threat was reversible. You lived a life where nothing could truly harm you."

  "Sounds lonely," Jiwon noted with a mocking tilt of her head.

  Yaejin paused, then let out a startled laugh. "Maybe it was. It's never about being immortal. It's about purpose... All my life, I grew up wanting to save people from their deaths, so I became obsessed with healing them. Then I found out Wonjung betrayed us, and I wanted her to die, for the first time, I actually wanted a person to die. Now, I don't even know what my purpose is anymore. I was ready to die then, but why am I even still alive?"

  Jiwon nodded. "No, I—I get that."

  Yaejin shook her head and slapped her cheeks. "Anyway, did you get any breakthrough yet?"

  Jiwon sighed, turning back to her laptop, which was filled with walls of encrypted text. "With Gaeul-unnie’s cryptic message? No. It’s a mess of nonsense."

  "Let’s go visit her," Yaejin said, her voice suddenly hollow.

  They walked to a quiet clearing where a fresh stone stood.

  Kim Gaeul – A General. A Hero. A Sister. An Elite. She sacrificed herself protecting the Council of Flux against the Lady in the Gold Mask.

  Yaejin’s knees hit the dirt. Tears finally spilled over. "I’m not... I’m not strong enough without you, Unnie."

  Jiwon knelt beside her, pulling her into a hug as Yaejin sobbed. "What even is my purpose now?"

  "I remember how she used to comfort us," Jiwon whispered. "She’d tell us those weird mystery stories... how she would always act like she was the main character, Minho."

  Yaejin’s crying stopped abruptly. She pulled back, her eyes wide and sharp. "Jiwon... I think I know how to decrypt her message..."

  On their way home, a heavy weight pressed against Yaejin’s nape—the unmistakable prickle of eyes following her from the shadows. She bolted upright, spinning around to scan the void, but the darkness revealed nothing.

  "What?" Jiwon prompted, shifting uncomfortably.

  "Nothing," Yaejin muttered, though her skin crawled. She didn't trust the darkness, and she certainly didn't trust the "nothing" inside it.

  They sprinted back to the laptop.

  "You want me to enter 'Minho' as the decryption variable?" Jiwon asked, her eyebrows shooting up. "Yaejin, that is absurd. This is high-level Flux encryption, not a diary lock."

  "Just try it," Yaejin insisted.

  Jiwon sighed, her fingers hovering over the keys. "Fine. Prepare to be disappointed."

  She typed the name and hit Enter.

  The screen flickered. The wall of nonsense collapsed, reorganized, and transformed into a set of precise geographic coordinates.

  "NO WAY!" Jiwon’s jaw dropped.

  Yaejin stood up, grabbing her spear with a renewed grip. The grief was still there, but now it had a direction.

  "Get ready," Yaejin said, her voice cold and determined. "We have a quest."

  ***

  The Backroom of the new FLUX HQ.

  Rin rolled her office chair across the cramped, cable-strewn floor, coming to a stop beside a young man who looked like he had aged a decade in a single month. Grant’s long, curly hair was no longer in a neat ponytail; it hung in messy, tangled locks around his face, and his glasses were so smudged they were practically opaque.

  "How are the trainees, Grant?" Rin asked, leaning on her armrest.

  "Good," he muttered, eyes glued to the vitals scrolling across his monitor.

  "Really?" Rin’s face brightened for a fleeting second.

  Grant suddenly pulled off his glasses and slammed them onto the desk with a sharp clack. "No. Not really, Rin. These kids were taken, they were tortured, and now they’re being forced to be soldiers. Nothing about that is 'good.'"

  Rin’s smile faded into a frown. "I just meant... you know, if any of them are still showing signs of ANTI corruption."

  Grant let out a long, ragged sigh, rubbing his eyes. "No. None. And I'm sorry. I’m just... I’m so tired."

  "We all are—"

  "No, Rin, you don’t get it!" Grant’s voice cracked, and his eyes welled with sudden, sharp tears. "Wonjung killed the Council. Alright? Why are we not more disturbed by that? We aren't Flux without them!"

  Rin’s expression hardened. "First of all, you’re wrong. The Council got themselves killed. You knew their wrongdoings. Wonjung knew them. That’s what ended them—it’s the same truth General Gaeul had to pay for with her life."

  Grant opened his mouth to protest, but Rin cut him off.

  "Second of all, let me finish. You’re wrong to say we aren't disturbed. We all are. We're just trying our hardest not to let it distract us from fighting this war."

  Grant slumped back, wiping his face with his sleeve. "I'm sorry..."

  Rin let the silence hang for a moment before shifting the subject. "How is Leeseo?"

  "She’s fine," Grant grumbled, putting his glasses back on. "She’s lifting mountains. She’s excited. She’s in love... she’s okay."

  Rin tilted her head, a smirk tugging at her lips. "What?"

  "Yeah, she lifted a mountain," Grant said, distracted by his screen again. "It’s normal. Mansu used to do tougher—"

  "No, the last part," Rin teased.

  "She's in love—oh, grow up, Rin," Grant snapped, though the edge was gone from his voice as he returned to his work.

  "Oh..." Rin’s mind drifted to Seonho and the way he looked at Leeseo. She sighed, a rare, soft look on her face. "To be young again."

  Edge.